Fundamental Knowledge of John Sheppard
by Ann Pendragon
Summary: Rodney just trying to solve a puzzle... Sheppard/McKay friendship.


The fundamental knowledge needed to understand John Sheppard the man was recognizing the things he did well, the things he did not and what drove him

**DISCLAIMER: **Sadly, I do not own Stargate Atlantis or any of its characters.

**AUTHORS NOTE:** Even before "The Shrine", I always enjoyed the friendship between Sheppard and McKay. Like Oscar and Felix, the battle of their opposites is a highlight in the show for me. But I've always suspected that they have more in common under the surface. Also think there was a lot more to John and his fathers strained relationship and this little one-shot might actually be a believable angle.

So, if you see something that is not correct, drop me a line. I have not watched all of the episodes, but I hope to some day. I'm going with what I know of the story and that is not everything. Also, just made an educated guess at the "IQ" It was Malcolm's on 'Malcolm in the Middle'. Thanks for reading…

**WARNING:** Spoilers for "The Shrine" and anything before. Curse words. Male bonding. Un-beta'd, so we got a universe of mistakes kids. Don't zat me. At least not twice.

**Fundamental Knowledge of John Sheppard**

By Ann Pendragon

The fundamental knowledge needed to understand John Sheppard the man was recognizing the things he did well, the things he did not and what drove him. At least this was McKay's latest theory.

John's drive, Rodney would reason, was more often than not fuelled by the need to pull their collective asses out of the line of fire—with his help of course. _'Maybe some of the others helped too.'_ So it was survival—others survival that drove the Colonel, because the man himself showed pitiful self preservation skills most days. That alone led Rodney to believe that something deeper drove John's actions_. 'Friendship, maybe?'_

Rodney had also wondered if John's upbringing had anything to do with the alpha male drive he wielded like a weapon. From what little he knew of the silver spoon background Ronan had spoke of when he'd returned from John's fathers funeral, John was loaded or at least his family. Money either drove men or dulled them, but John was neither dull nor was he greedy for material things outside the simple or needed, so maybe it wasn't money.

And being liked as a drive stimulus? What a laugh. As John so elegantly stated on more than one occasion, he could give a rat's ass. It was something both men agreed. They had a job to do and so what if social decorum got pushed aside. Who needed to be liked? Right? _'Well, maybe just a little liked was good sometimes…' _And even if John wasn't driven by being liked, John was liked—a lot—by scientist and marine and most aliens alike. _'How does he do that?'_

And that led to what things John did well? At one time Rodney would have been grudging to enumerate these things, let alone acknowledge them. But those things the Lt. Colonel did well had saved his ass and countless others time and again.

John was a good leader, at least what Rodney understood what a leader should be. He did keep them safe and he actually did give a damn about those under his charge. Painfully so sometimes. _'Maybe that's why they like him more?'_

John hit golf balls well, he shot things well, he fought well—as long as it wasn't Ronan or Teyla. Rodney would even go as far to say he did okay in chess—maybe. But the things that John seemed to do the best came to him as naturally as the alien gene that ran through his blood. He was a natural pilot and strategist. _'Explains chess game…' _Hell, you even naturally trusted the guy even when his idea's guaranteed a large explosion or someone being shot. _'Back to that whole likable thing.'_ He was a natural with numbers and his memory sometimes even rivaled some of the members of Rodney's science team. That in itself had piqued Rodney's curiosity about the man at the start. That and the fact that John showed the most promise at being the best apt at driving Rodney insane without even trying.

'_The man is an incorrigible child. What a great segway into what John does badly…'_

Rodney found that the things John did not do well were more along the lines of the elemental or social, things like not controlling his temper some days or being the worst liar. Sheppard's humor was sardonic—wry at best. He had this horrific need to be the cities human punching bag a little too often for his friends and co-workers taste—'hero complex' Jenifer called it after the Colonels latest stay in her med center. He was also stubborn—moves a mountain to get what he wants stubborn. And then there was that whole mystery part about John, like you never really got to see him, just the strictly edited sarcastic, intense, stoic bits. Rodney had seen clams open up more. He'd witnessed Ronon open up more. Of course maybe John's stoicism was just part and parcel to being the guy in charge…

'_And don't get me started on the hair…'_

So what drove John, what he did well or not well and acknowledging the day's that made the combination of the two their salvation were all pieces to the John Sheppard puzzle for the doctor. _'Not a bad analysis for a non-therapist voodoo doctor.'_

In the end it was Rodney's own fundamental need for knowledge—nosiness—and an itching suspicion about the Lt. Colonel, that finally placed another key piece into the Sheppard puzzle or so he thought…

"I found you out, Sheppard. 165. You tested 165!" The scientist's voice raised an octave in excitement as he struggled to keep up with the Colonel through the halls of Atlantis.

John had eyed him moments before, like he had lobsters crawling out of his ears, until realizing what Rodney was referring to. "Leave it alone, Rodney." John warned as he quickened his pace through Atlantis's halls to the Jumper bay. He had flying to do. "And I'm not even gonna ask where you got that information from."

"Why lie about something like that, John?" Rodney continued, a dog with a bone. "Why didn't I see it? My score being significantly higher of course, I should have detected. Maybe I did…"

"Detected?" John spun around, sharply pointing his finger into the scientists face. "What do you think you have, Rodney? Nerd spidey sense?" John shook his head. "It's not important."

"Not important!" This nearly snapped the overachieving scientist. That 'unimportant' number on a scale had been one of his earliest bastions of comfort in his life. It proved in black and white that he was special—exceptional. It's what he held onto when the big dumb kids were kicking the crap out of him at the park after chess club, big dumb kids that he originally thought John was the day he met him. The Doctor knew different now. Even at the start, Rodney understood the pilot had his skills and even respected him for them, but this?

"John, what you could have been—could have done…" Rodney stuttered out incredulously. "Maybe science wasn't your thing. Not enough adrenaline. But you were-are a skilled fighter pilot in the military. Before Atlantis there could have been NASA or ..."

"I was in the running."

Rodney stopped midsentence at his friend's quiet admittance. John had stopped in front of the opened back hatch of the jumper, his shoulders slouched.

"My dad gave me the opportunity, I was in and then I got myself kicked out. Just didn't feel right."

"Didn't feel right? It was NASA. Do you know the percentile you have to be in to be considered, let alone accepted…?" John gave him a dark glare over his shoulder. "I guess you do." The doctor answered his own question. "Was it the pressure?"

"No and yes." John answered. "Just couldn't take one more hand out from dad, one more attempt to control my life." John turned to his friend. "Besides, you saw me in one of those space suits. It was hell on my hair." John gave one of his infamous wry smirks.

"Do you think your dad would be proud of you now?"

John took a moment to answer the scientist's unusually thoughtful question. Lately the two of them had been having a lot more of these 'personal' moments and John was finding himself less resistant to answering a question or two. _'I did get to witness the guy turn into a crying four year old…'_ God, he hoped Rodney hadn't caught another brain bug. _'Nah, he's just being nosey.'_

"I don't know." John finally answered the question and honestly. His dad would have been proud of the accomplishment, another accolade on the Sheppard hall of fame. But would he have been proud of the honor and unknown that came with this adventure? Would he have understood how special all this was? Would he have been proud of John for finding his place amongst it all, with these people? Would he have seen what the experience had done to him? Would he have been proud of John?

"Guess none of that really matters anymore." John spoke quietly. "But, I defiantly covered the whole shoot for the stars thing."

"Yeah, try intergalactic space hero." Rodney mumbled out. For all the things John could have been, did well or not, it was what he'd proven to be to this mission, to these people—hell, to two galaxies, that mattered. John was a hero.

John raised his brow, catching the rare compliment from his arrogant friend. "Thanks Rodney."

"Well, your welcome, John. Anyways I'm still more genius so you can have action hero."

"Generous of ya." John quirked his brows, now standing on the Jumpers ramp.

"You know me." Rodney shrugged humbly and turned to leave.

"Hey, Rodney?"

"Yeah, Sheppard."

"Why did you go and find my score."

"Because you wouldn't tell me."

"Not what I meant"

Rodney breathed in and let out a telling sigh, his hands buried deep in his pockets. "It's just that since knowing you, you've been a challenge for me on some level."

"And you wanted to know how a combat boot wearing fly boy could be a challenge to the great Rodney McKay, is that it?" John's voice sarcastic.

"Maybe." Rodney defended. "Maybe just wanted to understand why someone like you would become my best friend—and don't take that the wrong way. Maybe both of us being in the top percentile explains that a little better, but we are just so different…"

"I get it Rodney. I get it." John waved away his friends babbling, slightly amused and oddly touched. "You're my friend, Rodney. You just are, okay." John's expression genuine. "If you really want some sort of answer then say it's because we're the good guys, alright."

Rodney looked up from the floor and met John's smirking face. Both men nodded in understanding. The Lt. Colonel quickly moved into the Jumper to begin his day and the doctor turned back towards the corridor to continue his, happy with the answer.

The answer was friendship. Friendship wasn't just a component to Rodney's puzzle. It's sum greater than any numerical measure, Friendship was the picture—the equation itself. The fundamental knowledge needed to understand John Sheppard the man was simply being his friend.


End file.
